Watashi ga Michi o Shimesu
by SophiaOfSlytherin
Summary: Re-write of "Here We Are." Not much is expected of Issho Enkai, but something inside her won't let her give up once she has begun. Follow her and her family as they enter the Chuunin exams. Her loyalty will be tested, but what shall she choose in the end?
1. Time

Time.

Time has never been on my side. It has passed too slowly for my taste. Inside, I have aged, and with this newfound age has come bitterness. This rapid aging has brought not only the bitterness, but a maturity of sorts, a wisdom. I have been called a genius. Then again, I have been called many names in my time in my "home," Kumogakure.

I say "home" sarcastically. This is not a home. I consider myself homeless. Though I wear the Cloud Village's emblem upon my headband, visible as it wraps around my small head, overlapping my long, black hair, I hold no preference to this village. A village is a village. It matters not who lives there; they are still the same, and therefore none should bear any special favor.

My pale-skinned hand rises to my eye. Typically it is abnormally round but today it is jaggedly shaped, some parts swollen and blackened. The most recent sign of my conflicts. I wish the other children would just leave me to myself. I like to hide away in my darkened room, the lights off as if maybe if I am unseen, I am forgotten. Maybe my mindset is that if no one hears or sees me, I am not there. A girl can only hope.

A knock on my door startles me. The voice that follows calls my name-"Enkai!"-which alerts me as to whom said voice belongs. It is that of Yotsuki Yumi, one of my elder sisters. I can tell it is her and not Kazan, her twin, as she is more cheerful, and her voice radiates warmth and joy. Without being told she could do so, Yumi opens the door and enters.

Yumi, like her twin, is rather tall for her age of fourteen, although Kazan was still slightly taller. Their looks in general are very different. Examining my sister as I have time and time again, I feel a familiar jealousy. Public opinion is that she is the most beautiful girl in the village, with her blonde cascade of hair falling down onto her deeply tanned-and all naturally colored-shoulders, bright, enchanting blue eyes beneath feathery eyelashes, an already-developed body, and an award-winning smile. Yumi can make any sort of clothing fashionable, and she is often a trend-setter. Occasionally after returning from a mission with blood-stained clothes, the next day, people have wandered the streets with purposely red-stained outfits.

As she flicks the light on, my pupils sting, having not seen that much brightness in a while. "I know you don't really care to talk to me," she says, her adorned lips in a semi-contradicting smile, "but Mother said to get you. We're going to Konoha for a while. There's a Chuunin exam. She thinks we're ready."

"Tell her I said 'no, thank you'," I return quietly, my developed animosity flooding over in my voice, my dark aura battling with her shining light. There is no hope for me to succeed in this sort of exam; I have accepted the fact that I will more than likely never pass the rank of Genin. My ninjutsu is an embarrassment at best, and I lack all ability in the fields of genjutsu. Well, to be fair, my ninjustu is decent, I suppose, but no where near that of those I would be testing with. I can never even faze my sisters with it. My taijutsu is my best bet. I am small and appear sickly because of my pale skin and thin body, but my strength is not proportioned to my body size, and I am quick like the lightning for which my village is known.

"Not going to happen," Yumi retorts. "Get packing. I believe we're leaving today or tomorrow." With no further word, she exits, forgetting to turn the light back off as I wish she would as if she's hoping leaving me alone with the light will either cheer me up, or make me sizzle until I am no more. In all sincerity, that is probably not her intention, but I am a glass half-empty kind of person. I often see things in their worst possible way.

As I slowly stretch my short legs to stand, I sense a presence in my doorway. This person was darker than even I, and the eyes burrow into me hatefully. They belong to my eldest sibling, my brother Hayame. He is considerably tall for his twenty years, but unlike some other boys his age he knows, it is confirmed that he has finished growing. Hayame is a well-rounded Jonin, and he possesses a deadly combination of ninjutsu, genjutsu, and taijutsu. Though considerably young, he is sensei to a squad made up of three Genin who shared the Yotsuki name: Manami, Yoshiro, and Jaiden. The three of them are siblings; Manami is the same age as my twin sisters, Yoshi my age, and Jaiden about a year younger. My own squad, made of up of Yumi, Kazan, and myself, has the luck of having our own mother as our sensei.

I try to ignore him now. That is usually what he wants of me, so I don't understand why he stands before me. His black eyes follow me as I try to move across the room to pack, and out of the corner of my eye, I see his dark upper lip raise in a loathing sneer. Feeling awful with eyes upon me, I turn to him and demand, "What?" as forcefully as I can.

My own brown eyes locked on him, I take the time to observe him. He needs to dye his hair again-the inherited red from our mother is beginning to show at the roots of his falsified black. Sometimes I think he envies my black hair; if I could, I would give it to him. I hate it. It reminds me of my father, just like my eyes. "Let me set a few ground rules," he began in his unexpectedly deep voice. Puberty had done well for him. "In Konoha, we do not interact. We are not close. I am just a sensei who happens to be from the same village as you. Got it?" Without waiting to hear my answer, he departs.

Fury swells inside my frozen heart. Hayame has always hated me since I came here. I never asked to live with Mother and my siblings. It just happened. Formerly, I lived with my paternal grandmother-who, by the way, never told me anything about my father, a bum I haven't yet had the displeasure of meeting and am hoping is dead-in Sunakagure. If anywhere has ever been my home, Suna is it.

In Suna, all is sand, and there is little water. That might contribute as to why I, with water as my chakra type, have always had difficulty with my ninjutsu. It was challenging to practice growing up. In fact, the only thing that had kept me going was not a thing at all, but a person. It is safe to say I would not have made it anywhere without that person. He means everything to me, even now, after I haven't seen him for three years. I'm not sure that means much, however; "everything" to me is not all that much.

My hands deftly remove clothes from my closet and place them carefully into my suitcase without my brain's conscious command to do so. It's as if my body is ready to go, even if I am not sure my mind is willing. Of course, I would love to leave Kumo and never look back, but I know I'll be coming back eventually. Still, a vacation would be a nice escape, wouldn't it? Maybe it's just the exam part that I am weary about.

Glancing at the doorway, I spy a familiar smile. It belongs to Kazan. Her appearance floods over me; she is very hard to miss. Kazan has red hair like our mother and Hayame naturally, except that hers is brighter and more of a fiery shade. Her eyes are blue, but not the same as Yumi's; Kazan's are much darker in color. As I mentioned, she's tall, towering over me even from afar. Her skin is a darker brown than both her twin and brother. Of my family, she is easily my favorite. Hayame and I have a hate-hate relationship, and Yumi tries too hard to cheer me up. Kazan is more accepting of my asocial ways, and she understands that I cannot be changed.

"Hey, short-stuff," the redhead greets, her somewhat-abnormally pointed teeth in a blindingly white smile. If anyone else mocks my height, I am jumpy and defensive, but it is different with Kazan. Maybe it's because I do not fear her resentment; I expect her to accept me because she has in the past. I say "expect" instead of "trust" because I do not trust her. That's nothing personal. She knows I don't trust anyone. She accepts this. "All packed?"

"Yes," I deliver a hushed response. My verbalized answer, accompanied by a nod of the head, release themselves before I can think about it. When had I finished packing? It doesn't matter, because I _am_ finished, but I do not recall doing so. Whatever. It means nothing.

"Wicked," she grins and enters all of the way. Her cheery attitude-but not overwhelming, like Yumi often is-tempts the corners of my lips up, but I resist the urge to smile. It might give her false hope. I think she's convinced that I can become normal. I will _never _be normal.

She observes the broken look in my eyes. I know that's what she's looking at, because hers are locked on mine. Either that, or she's wondering what my father looks like. I know she considers this; I look nothing like our mother. None of us-except Mother, of course-have any idea what he looks like, so I think she's often wondered where I get my dead-looking hair, pale skin, thin body type, and round, brown eyes. In fact, my appearance is almost fish-like. Despite her observation, Kazan clearly decides not to ask any questions; instead, she leaves me to myself. I grab my suitcase and soon follow, turning off the lights and letting the dark soak back into the five navy blue walls that made up my untraditional bedroom.

I took my place in the living room of our elaborate home. It featured warm colors, mostly yellow and orange, Mother's favorite. Even the couch was a brighter yellow than I cared to look at for too long, else irritating dots appear before my eyes and have to be rubbed away. This house dissatisfies me; the brightness only mocks me.

Soon thereafter, we are off. Before the eight of us-Mother, Hayame, myself, Kazan, Yumi, Jaiden, Yoshiro, and Manami-place a single toe outside of Kumogakure, Kazan reminds us that we need to see Yodaime Raikage before we depart. Of course, we all know she just wants to say goodbye to her father. Yumi agrees instantly, also eager to visit him, and Hayame begrudgingly, but mother is slightly weary of the thought. She has not mastered how to interact with him as she would her leader if he was not her ex-husband. Their relationship is strained, and they over-formalize to conceal the awkwardness. Truthfully, I don't feel their father is entirely over Mother, but she has moved on considerably. There's me, for example, but more recently, this is evident in her choice of boyfriend.

We currently drop our bags outside of the Raikage's palace. Sometimes Kazan and Yumi spend weekends here, but for different reasons. I think Yumi enjoys the pampering and lady treatment-they _are _Ladies, after all, as their father is the Raikage-but Kazan isn't really into that girlish lifestyle. The reason for her arrivals is just to be with her father. Their relationship is better and more whole than practically any I've ever seen.

"Someone should stay outside and guard the luggage," Manami points out. Her silver hair drapes around her shoulders; her bangs, curled over her headband, have grown too far out. She has black eyes that are currently fixated on a point on my mother's forehead, to whom she was speaking. Manami always gives her conversations-like her battles-her fullest attention, so it is no surprise to see the concentration on her face.

"I'll stay," I interject. Everyone except Kazan, who apparently knows more than they thought somehow, is slightly taken aback at the sound of my voice, a sound they so rarely hear. I don't want them to think I've made some crazy metamorphosis, so I add in a dark mutter, "Better than going in there," and take a seat by the luggage with my back against the building. My arms cross in front of my chest.

Mother glanced at me for a moment. I try not to look at her. She turns to Hayame briefly. "Stay with her." Hayame nods, finding himself with no other choice, and she and the others exit from our sight, hidden behind the walls of the palace.

For no reason other than boredom, I find myself wondering about how much I really know about my mother. I know what she looks like: tall, redheaded, blue-eyed, graceful, beautiful. I know her name: Issho Karei. I know I am her daughter, Issho Enkai. I know she has four children from two men, one of whom she regrets meeting. I have accepted this fact. Now that I think about it, I hardly know her. This thought, I wonder if she's had herself. Does she realize there's a stranger living in her household?

They return shortly and uneventfully, and we are on our merry way. We were apparently offered carriages, but Mother has decided we should walk. Apparently, it's some kind of training or something. After we have been walking a while, I glance back at her, wanting to run. When I run, I am not broken, nor unwanted. I am just part of the wind. Mother nods and mouths, "Go ahead," and I think maybe I'm not such a stranger after all.

I lose this thought quickly in the wind. I lose _all _thoughts quickly in the wind. They seem to rush away, being sucked from my mind and replaced with adrenaline. I feel untouchable, impervious to all damage. If only that feeling could last…If only I could run forever…

But time has never been on my side.


	2. Luck

Luck.

Luck always seems to allude me. Even in my younger days in the Sunakagure, I was never a very lucky girl. It has become clear to me over the years that everything I want, I have to fight for and take it myself. I can not just sit around and expect to be pampered. That's Yumi's job.

My unluckiness is proven yet again as I, in my run, make contact with a heavy something that feels like flesh. I lose my footing in the hit and skid onto my back. The fleshy something exclaims, "Oof!" and flies in the opposite direction, sliding slightly further than I had. As soon as I am back in control of my body, my head shoots up, and my brown eyes try to locate my victim.

Unable to find a good view from here, I blink off my daze and crawl over to examine the victim, assess the damage. It is a boy, and I know I have never met him before, but he looks familiar to me. I don't know why. I must have hit him pretty hard, because he's breathing softly, eyes closed, as almost if he's sleeping.

Something compels me to avert my eyes, and I do momentarily, but when I look back, he isn't there. I guess I didn't hit him all that hard. I turn my head to the other side and discover this boy again, his face not far from mine. "What's your name?" he inquires.

I fall back, shocked and surprised at his speedy recovery coupled with his sudden appearance in my personal bubble. He just laughs at me and good-naturedly offers me a hand. Reluctantly, I take it, and he pulls me to my feet. Since I would be considered rude if I did not answer his question, I exercise the ability to speak I so rarely use. "Issho Enkai. You?" I choose my words to fit the situation, not to make a monologue, so I am satisfied with my short response.

"I'm Rock Lee!" he declares, striking a ridiculous pose. His teeth make some sort of indescribable glistening noise, if that even _has _a noise. The pose, the teeth, the black, domed hair…It is then that I know why he is familiar.

"Might Gai," I say slowly. "Know him?" I could hardly imagine this is a popular look. The hairstyle is ridiculous and can only be the influence of the one and only Gai. He had told my mother of a prodigal child on his Konoha squad, a taijutsu specialist, and maybe this is he.

"Do I know him?" he repeats as if the very thought of him not being acquainted with Gai is insane. "Gai-Sensei is the greatest thing that has ever happened in my entire life! He has taught me the fundamentals of being an excellent fighter! He has shown me things that are virtually unimaginable to anyone who has not seen living proof like myself!" He seems very emotional, and tears stream his cheeks. "You cannot possibly imagine all of the things Gai-Sensei has done for me! He has a flair for teaching that you will never even begin to understand! Gai-Sensei is-"

"That certainly was a beautiful speech," says Gai as he approaches. I saw him coming while the boy was speaking, the smile on his face at these words, but I didn't say anything because I had a feeling Gai would want to intrude in this way. "Unfortunately, I'll just be cutting in now." He turns to me, his teeth doing that same annoying thing as the miniature version of him had. "Welcome, Enkai. Where is your mother? And the others?"

"On their way," I answer simply. "I ran ahead." Politely, he walks to where my luggage had flown during the collision and lifts it in his massively oversized hands. Instead of words, which I often find tedious and worthless, I nod to express my gratitude.

"Oh!" the mini-Gai explodes. "I forgot to tell you _my _name!" He turns briefly to Gai, his head down in obedient remorse. "I am sorry, Gai-Sensei, for momentarily forgetting my manners!" Then he spins back to me, and I wonder what happened in this kid's life to make him so animated. "I am Rock Lee!" He announces to me.

"That's, er, nice," I squeeze out, feeling a vocalized response was due but not knowing what to say. Luckily, Mother, Hayame, and the others approach, saving me from the suddenly awkward conversation.

My mother doesn't use words terribly often, but she has an alternate method of communication: affection. Instead of greeting Gai verbally, she wordlessly steps beside him and pecks his cheek. Oddly, the man blushes. Lee whips out a notebook and scribbles something down. Apparently, he takes notes when Gai does something eventful.

Our ten-person party heads off to Gai's home, where we will be staying for the duration of the exam. Gai doesn't have children, but he has multiple spare rooms because sometimes his team stays over to avoid the excuse of commuting times for tardiness to early training. At least, that's what we're expecting to see.

Gai, Lee, Hayame, and Yoshiro-in other words, the men-carry all of our baggage. Together, it takes four people to carry what took eight to get here. We soon arrive, which is good, because if the walk from the gate area took too long, I was going to go insane. I can not walk for long periods; I have to run them.

There are four guest rooms. As we decided in advanced, Manami and Jaiden are roommates. As are Yoshiro and Hayame. Kazan and Yumi sharing was all but unexpected. This leaves me my own room. Mother is going to take Gai's room while he sleeps on the couch. That's what they've told us, but I don't expect that to happen. They will probably just share his room.

I dislike that concept. Gai is nice and all, but I don't particularly care for him, and I don't want him that close to my mother. He acts like he is my father, trying to be there for me when I am upset. I do not need a father. I do not want a father. The last one worked out _so _well.

My bags are taken to my room by Gai, and I follow him in to see it. The walls are a dark blue with spots, some large and some small, of lighter shades. The pillow cases, sheets, and canopy over my bed are all black. There's a cushioned window-seat that when I look out, I discover the most beautiful view of the village I could have ever imagined. I spin on my heels to face him; he is smiling, standing on the center of the circular navy rug that conceals most of the wooden floor. "It's-" I begin, but I'm not very good with words.

"You're welcome," he interrupts with a smile. For a moment, I almost let down my guard, let him see me for what is on the inside. I have had so much practice hiding my feelings, but that is about to go down the drain. No, I decide not to. I keep my barriers raised high. I won't let him in where he can hurt me. The prospects of my smiling dissipate with my trust.

I need to get out of this situation before I do something foolish. It would be an idiotic move to speak again unless it's to excuse myself, but how do I do that? I decide to wing it. "I'm going to go for a walk," I announce. It's the longest sentence I think I've said for a while. Without waiting for a reply, I calmly exit the room. I glance back over my shoulder, recognize the hurt in his eyes, but I do not stop.

Wordlessly, I depart through the front door. When I am alone in the Konoha streets, I express my guilt through a few tears. Tears are nothing new to me. I've let flow more than possibly any one I know. Perhaps I am just a baby, weak and soft, but they make me feel better. Secret tears are like apologizing to myself and, in turn, apologizing to the wounded party without having to face them.

I dry my face on my dull red sleeve. It was once blindingly bright-a hand-me-down from Kazan-but it has faded, as if it was adjusting to the new owner by regulating its color to fit the personality. Hardly do I ever get new clothes, so most of my clothes in preferable colors-blacks or dark blues, my favorites-have been hand-dyed by me. Today I did not feel like searching for a darker outfit, so I slid into a red long-sleeved shirt, red pants, and a pink sash that was once Yumi's. I hate pink, but my pants were too big, so I needed the belt.

As I wonder, I bump into an intimidating man with a mask concealing the lower half of his face, and his Konoha head protection band covers one of his eyes. I gasp at first, expecting the worst, but I find my breathing regulating. I hope this silver-haired man is nice, and as he directs his visible eye on me, I have a feeling in my stomach that no bad will happen.

Then again, luck always seems to allude me.


	3. Worth

Worth.

Worth is one luxury I do not have. I was valued by some in Suna-valued by my friends-but many more considered me weak, useless. What good was a water-based ninja in a village of all sand? I could do nearly nothing. In Kumo, I am less than worthless. The public hates me, I am sure of it. I have heard what they call me. Children tease with words that typically are not all that bad, like "nothing," "useless," and "weak." I have heard those before; it is the words of adults that bother me. According to the adults of Kumogakure, I am only the bastard child of the Raikage's ex-wife. I am valued at less than nothing.

I see the look in this silver-haired man's eye, and I have a feeling that he knows what being worthless is like. I feel like he has been where I am. Oddly, I feel connected to a total stranger. "Hi there," he says, and I think he's smiling beneath that mask. "I'm Hatake Kakashi. And you are?"

At least we aren't strangers anymore. He seems to be talking down to me, though, probably underestimating my age because of my height. I'm around four foot, two inches on a good day. "Issho Enkai," I answer politely, and my voice, disproportionate to that of someone of the age he was probably assuming I am, takes him off-guard. "I am twelve," I add to put him out of his misery of confusion.

"I see," he answers. I feel his eyes on my thighs and am suspicious for a moment, but then I rationalize; he is examining my weapon pouches. It seems my hands have been twitching towards them. He is more than likely just wondering as to his own safety. I fold my arms across my chest uncomfortably when his gaze averts to my headband. The headband informs him that I am Cloud. "Where is your team?" he inquires. "What are you doing out and about alone?"

"I went for a walk," I reply calmly. There is no need for the returning feeling of guilt in regards to abandoning Gai when he was being sincere. Why are they back? "We are staying with Might Gai for the duration of the upcoming Chuunin exams." Did I say that out loud? I never spoke in so many words, so I am unsure as to why I just said fourteen in one sentence without even being asked about our residence.

"Oh, you're here for the Chuunin exams?" Kakashi seems truly delighted. "I'm sending my team through, too. Maybe you'll fight them." After a pause, he adds, "I'm their sensei, of course, not a Genin." He chuckles at his own discrepancy, and I feel a tug on my mouth to smile. I fight this tug, however. Issho Enkai has no reason to smile.

A few more moments are spent in idle conversation. I actually do well to keep my part, unlike my usual conversations that are more like monologues than dialogues. Kakashi adds much to the conversation, including a promise to guide me through Konoha at a to-be-determined time. Something inside me, a voice that has been quiet until now, urges me to trust him. I tell the voice that I will see what I can do.

Eventually, he offers to introduce me to his team. I go willingly with him; Kakashi-Sensei seems like a respectable, knowledgeable ninja. Other wise, he would not have made Jonin. For this reason, I am expecting great things from his team.

I am surprised when, as we near the training area designated to his team, he pauses. He requests that I feign an injury. Though I am unsure of his intentions, I oblige. We decide my ankle is afflicted, and he carries me the remaining distance.

Upon our arrival, I see three children of my age. There is a boy with blonde hair and orange clothing. He wears an enormous grin, and I have a feeling that's typical. Further in is another boy, this one with jagged black hair and eyes that I don't trust. The symbol on his back alerts me that he is a Uchiha. The final Genin is a girl with pink hair. Though I am not a fan of the color pink, I find myself drawn to her cheerful aura, unless Yumi's that repulses me or Kazan's that is just tolerable.

"Sorry I'm late," Kakashi begins. "I found this girl with a sprained ankle, and I couldn't just leave her. It would have been inhumane." So this is why he wanted me to be hurt; I am his excuse. Technically, it _was_ my fault he is late, but not because of an injury. I suppose it sounds better than a late-running conversation.

The blonde seems to buy the excuse. The girl seems skeptical, but she does not speak up. The Uchiha boy poses a question to force us into a corner. "How did she sprain her ankle?" he puzzled without looking at us. I find myself with more reason not to trust him; there is no way he is shy, so he has no reason to not look one of us in the eye.

"She was chasing after a kitten that was running away," Kakashi bluffs. I roll my eyes, but the action goes unnoticed. Does he really expect this to be bought? The Uchiha boy has to be smarter than that.

"Yes," I elaborate pathetically, just playing along now. What does it affect me if this lie blows up in his face? I hardly know these people. I don't even know the names of these children. "I was trying to regain the kitty for a little girl in a wheelchair. Don't worry, I caught the kitty. I brought her back to her crippled owner, and then we walked through a rainbow. Unfortunately, I tripped over the pot of gold." It is a lot for me, but I suppose the word count does not qualify as "improvement" since I am being sarcastic.

Giving up hope after my little speech, Kakashi drops me, and I land on my feet. "Enkai, meet Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura, and Uchiha Sasuke. You three, this is Issho Enkai." The blonde boy, Naruto, waves to me, and I wave back weakly, not sure how else to respond.

I spend a while with them, spar with them. We fight girls against boys; Sakura and I win in a matter of minutes. It appears that this is because Naruto and Sasuke dislike each other. Actually, dislike is not a strong enough term. Though I barely know Sakura, we move together, coordinate attacks without having to speak a word. It takes little time at all before the boys are on the ground. Sakura leans with her foot on Naruto's head, and I sit on Sasuke's back.

"Pathetic," Kakashi sighs, shaking his head. "I really expected this to go the other way." Sakura laughs to suggest that she did not. Her prognosis matched the exact events. "I mean, seriously? Getting beat by a couple of girls? You'll never make it as a squad if you boys can't work together."

"Will you get off of me?" Sasuke demands fiercely, taking out his anger towards his sensei on me. I understand what anger is, how it feels, and how it influences thought, so I do not take his hostility personal. If anything, I feel empathy. Many times have I been defeated in training. In fact, this may be the first time I've ever won, which is no honor to me, because I don't feel Naruto and Sasuke fought at their best.

I rise from his back without complaint. Judging from the position of the fleeting sun, I realize it is getting late. "I should be going," I say weakly. I feel sick at the idea of leaving, of seeing Gai again after the way I behaved, departing because we were getting too close. I really do feel awful with myself for being so reclusive, and this is a first. Typically, I accept myself the way I am. At this point, I dislike myself. I almost hate myself.

We say our goodbyes, and I am on my way. It was a pleasure to meet them, and I wonder if they really liked me. Being liked feels so strange because I am unused to it. I mean, of course my mother likes me; that's part of the motherly-love bit. Kazan likes me, and I'm pretty sure Yumi does too, but they're my sisters. Has anyone before Kakashi and his squad ever liked me that wasn't _supposed _to like me?

Two answers come to mind. Firstly, my Sunakagure friends. They took me in to their group, usually so exclusive that they only allowed each other in because they were siblings. They were there for me when they did not have to be, and I was there for them.

Another name pops into my head: Gai. I am growing rather tired of having him pushed into my thoughts, so I shake away the whole concept of being liked and return to who I am: the asocial, unlikable Enkai. I withdraw from the outside world as I lose myself in my footsteps.

After all, worth is one luxury I do not have.


End file.
